


Who Needs Prom Anyway?

by jatty



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M, Prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 06:45:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4050196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jatty/pseuds/jatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Gerard is helping at his grandmother's flower shop before prom and Frank comes in with a girl who isn't actually his date to place an order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Needs Prom Anyway?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FranklyMrShankly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FranklyMrShankly/gifts).



> This is not well written.  
> This is fluff.  
> This is for my husband.

Gerard kept his head down when he heard the bells affixed to the front door of his grandmother’s floral shop jingle as the door was pushed open. Typically walk-in business was slow during the week, but since it was prom season and all his grandmother had asked him to come help out. Well—actually, she’d asked his mother, and his mother sent him in her place. He hated it, but he couldn’t tell his grandmother no… She was so happy to have him helping out, and even though he’d tried telling her that he wasn’t exactly _friends_ with any of the girls or guys coming in from his high school to order corsages, she didn’t seem to believe him.

She would always ask after the couple left if he was going to sit at their table at prom and if they were close friends or just acquaintances. After the first few attempts to tell her that he was unliked by his peers and that no one wanted to go to prom with him failed, Gerard gave up. He was probably going to have to order a corsage for a date who didn’t exist, just to keep from upsetting her…

“Hi, I’m here to order a corsage for prom.”

Gerard kept his head down as he pulled one of his grandmother’s design fliers and slid it across the counter to the peppy-sounding girl. His grandmother encouraged him to look up and be more animated—more friendly—but Gerard couldn’t do it. No one who came in was a friend to him. Most of the time, they were jocks who’d beat him up with their girlfriends who thought him lower than dirt. Why pretend to be polite to people he hated?

“Are these…the only styles you have?” The girl asked, more put off by the fact that Gerard wouldn’t look at her or speak to her than the arrangements on the paper. 

“We can do custom…you just have to tell us what you want,” Gerard mumbled, still looking down. 

He was probably going to lose this sale, but he didn’t care. His grandmother had stepped out for lunch and if the girl wanted a special order, Gerard wouldn’t be able to price it until she got back. 

“Gerard?”

At the sound of his name, spoken by a voice _definitely_ not belonging to the girl, Gerard finally looked up—startled. 

“You know him?” The girl asked, looking over at her prom date—looking over at Frank.

“Yeah, he’s in my painting class. He’s really good,” Frank said, smiling at the girl and then smiling at Gerard—making his stomach flutter and tighten all at once. 

He’d had a horrible crush on the underclassman, and having Frank standing in front of him—complimenting his art skills—wasn’t helping. The only thing that kept Gerard from getting the stupid idea that Frank might like him or might want to be friends with him, was the fact that Frank was here with a girl to help pick out and pay for her corsage. He had a girlfriend. The only reason he was being polite now was because he thought Gerard might have some input in the floral arrangement and quality. If he was rude, Gerard might mess it up to get revenge…

Except, little did Frank know, he could spit in Gerard’s face and that stupid corsage would still come out the same if not better. He wanted Frank to like him… Giving his date the perfect corsage (probably even at a reduced price to be honest) was all the bribing Gerard could manage.

“So…these arrangements,” Frank said, starting to look uncomfortable when Gerard still hadn’t spoken, “are they the only ones you have?”

“No,” Gerard said, looking down at the little flier he’d helped his grandmother design. She didn’t have enough money for a professional job, so he’d drawn all the pictures for her. The illustrations, she said, made the brochure look more classic and vintage than full color photographs—plus it saved about thirty cents per flier that was printed off. 

“My dress is blue—that’s the thing,” the girl said when Frank wasn’t more forceful.

“We can dye carnations,” Gerard mumbled. 

“It’s a really _dark_ blue. I want my flowers to pop.”

“We have carnations,” Gerard repeated, not good at all with upselling. If she didn’t like what was on the flier, there was little he could do besides stall for time until his grandmother got back. “And…roses. Um…” Gerard finally looked up at the girl and saw that she was studying the flier intently, her finger poised on one of the more expensive arrangements. Of course, Frank would have a girlfriend with fine taste…

He deserved it.

“I still think you should go with a sunflower—one _big_ sunflower,” Frank said. 

“I’m not tacking a whole sunflower on my wrist!” The girl said, getting fussy but giggling in an attempt to hide it. 

We have small sunflowers or…black-eyed susans look similar. You could have… I guess, well… Yellow looks really—it… Yellow pops when you pair it with blue. It’d stand out and it adds more vibrancy that just white.”

“That’s true,” the girl said, still sounding disappointed with the idea. 

“Is there a certain flower you want?” Gerard asked.

“I want _roses._ But not just the little ones—I want big roses. _Big,_ orange roses.”

“We have orange roses,” Gerard mumbled. He continued his passive approach to the girl’s corsage order, stalling as he waited for his grandmother. She didn’t like any of the arrangements on the flier, didn’t like any of the pretty ideas Frank suggested, and didn’t really seem to like any of the flowers—even the ones she said she wanted. 

Gerard didn’t know what the hell she wanted out of her corsage, but she was being too picky. Nothing, it seemed, was good enough for her.

“You keep it up and I’m gonna pick weeds from my mom’s garden and that’s all you’re gonna get,” Frank said after nearly fifteen minutes of fruitless efforts. 

“I just want it to be perfect…”

“These are all really nice—just pick one. Pick _something._ I said I’d take you here to order something before lunch. I don’t want to be here all day…”

The girl hummed a long time before pointing at one of the more expensive rose corsages on the flier. “Can I get this one but with orange roses?”

“Sure,” Gerard said, grabbing one of the order forms out from under the counter and filling it out slowly. He made sure to ask if there were any other flowers she’d like and if she wanted a single rose for the boutonniere. It surprised him that she answered and not Frank—and that Frank offered no opinion at all on the boutonniere he was to wear to prom. 

It surprised him, too, when the girl took out her purse to pay instead of Frank opening up his wallet—but when Gerard looked at the boy in confusion, Frank just smiled at him. 

Gerard immediately blushed and looked down at the form as the girl filled it out.

“You write so slow,” Frank said, hovering over the girl’s shoulder as she worked.

“Leave me alone!” The girl hissed. “It’s no wonder you can’t get a gate to prom.”

“It’s not that I can’t get a date, the school just won’t let me go with my date.”

“Why? Is she in middle school?” The girl hummed.

Gerard looked up silently, observing them. He’d never known Frank to have a girlfriend before today—when he came in with this girl who was apparently just his friend. Now he had to wonder who Frank’s date was and why she couldn’t come to prom with him. He doubted she was younger than him… A guy like Frank, no… His girlfriend was probably older.

Gerard knew he would never be worthy of Frank, but it still made him jealous to know Frank had someone else—someone cooler than him, older than him… Whoever she was, she couldn’t possibly be more feminine than him, though. He worked at a floral boutique after all, and was more involved in the arrangements than he would ever, _ever_ admit.

But, as Gerard was watching the girl fill out her form, Frank turned to look at him and grinned—like he was happy to have Gerard starting at him instead of disturbed.

Immediately, Gerard ducked his head and stared at the counter until the girl finished filling out the form. 

( ) ( ) ( )

It was two days later in painting class that Frank spoke to him again. He came to Gerard’s table—in the far corner of the room where he sat by himself—and took the seat across from him with his project.

Gerard had been so startled that he just stared a moment, then shook his head and looked down at his painting while he tried to think of something to say—anything to make himself look less awkward. 

“So how’s it coming?” Frank asked, his tone laidback and casual.

“Prom’s not for two weeks…we can’t make it until the week before at least. Or else it’ll dry out.”

“Not the flowers,” Frank said, giggling. “Your painting.”

“Oh,” Gerard said, trying to hide how flustered he was becoming. “It’s…good. What about yours?”

“Mine sucks,” Frank said, grunting before shaking his head and laughing again.

“I-I don’t think so,” Gerard said, even though he hadn’t really gotten a chance to pay much attention to Frank’s art project and was too embarrassed to look up from his own canvas. 

“Right,” Frank said, laughing again though Gerard didn’t know what was so funny to him. Maybe he was just uncomfortable. Maybe he just wanted to ask about the corsage and now that he knew it hadn’t even been started yet, he was embarrassed. “So, I take it you’re not going to prom,” Frank said, kind of randomly, after about five minutes of silence. 

“No,” Gerard said, not sure whether or not to be offended or hurt by the statement. It was true and kind of obvious that he wasn’t going, but it stung a bit to know that Frank was aware of how pathetic his life was.

“Me either.”

Gerard just hummed, not sure what he was supposed to say to that.

“Are you working that night?” Frank asked. “I guess the flower shop will be pretty busy, huh?”

“I’m just volunteering for grandmother,” Gerard said, sure Frank was preparing some kind of joke about effeminate and girly it was for him to be working with flowers. “She needs the help. She can’t work as fast as she used to.”

“Okay,” Frank said, sounding and looking a little bit confused and put off by the outburst. “I was just wondering if you worked that night.”

“No. Just in the morning to keep up with everyone coming in for their orders.” 

“So…you’re not busy that night?”

“Prom night?” Gerard asked, trying to focus on his painting because if he looked at Frank—if he accepted that Frank might be asking what he was doing so they might hang out—he’d start blushing like an idiot. 

“Yeah. Are you busy prom night?” Frank asked, losing patience.

“No.”

“Okay…”

“Are…are you?” Gerard asked, glancing up. As soon as he made eye contact with Frank, the other boy started searching his face, and just as Gerard felt his cheeks start to burn again, he looked back down quickly. 

“No. Do you wanna hang out that night? My mom’s going out of town for weekend so we can go to my place.”

“I don’t know… What would we do?” Gerard asked. 

“Hang out,” Frank said, shrugging his shoulders and messing with his paintbrushes. “Watch movies or something…”

“O-Okay,” Gerard said after swallowing hard, trying to keep his composure because, _holy shit,_ his crush of two years just asked him to come hang out on prom night. 

If Frank had more friends—or, more specifically, if he had more friends who were jocks—Gerard would be afraid that this was al some kind of trick, an attempt to get him on his own so a group of drunken athletes could gang up on him after a night of partying. But Frank was almost as much of a loner as Gerard was, except he actually did have friends other than the girl he’d taken into the boutique. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard checked the address twice before walking up to the porch and ringing the doorbell. He couldn’t stop fidgeting and biting his lip, both excited and anxious—happy that Frank _actually_ wanted to hang out with him, but terrified that this was still some kind of a trap. 

Even when Frank answered the door and was smiling, Gerard was still cautious as he stepped inside, listening for other people but hearing nothing other than the television in the next room and the refrigerator or some other appliance humming. 

“Hey—I got us pizzas,” Frank said as he ushered Gerard inside. 

“I-I thought I was going to help pay,” Gerard said, watching as Frank closed the door behind him.

“It’s fine. My mom left me money—um, there’s Coke in the fridge if you want any. I-I can get you some, if you want.”

Frank seemed nervous and it made Gerard feel anxious as well. He’d talked to Frank maybe a handful of times, but Frank had never acted this way toward him. Even as Frank showed him to the living room—to the couch—he kept stammering and ringing his hands, but grinning as if he were excited. 

Gerard tried to play it off, but when Frank was still stumbling all around him even after they sat down on the couch with soda and pizza, a b-list horror movie playing, he began to wonder what else was going on. It wasn’t like their conversations in painting class where Frank would just giggle every now and then—now, Frank could hardly stop giggling and Gerard could’ve sworn Frank was blushing too.

“S-So…why didn’t you go to prom?” Gerard asked as they started their second movie. He was still picking at his fourth slice of pizza, not really hungry but embarrassed at being full when there was another large pizza waiting on the kitchen counter. 

“I don’t know,” Frank said, glancing at Gerard and then turning back to the tv. 

“You told…that girl at the boutique that you’re date couldn’t come,” Gerard said, hoping he wasn’t crossing any boundaries. He was excited to be working on having a friendship with Frank, even if it didn’t completely satisfy his crush, and he didn’t want to lose that because Frank thought he was too nosy. 

“Yeah…did you read the school’s guidebook on prom? The thing is full of a bunch of ridiculous shit.”

“N-No,” Gerard said. He hadn’t bothered with the prom rule book. No one was going to ask him to go so why bother?

“You have to have a date to go at all,” Frank said, rolling his eyes. “And your date…can’t be same gender as you, so…”

Gerard almost choked on the bite of pizza in his mouth, his eyes going wide. He’d had a _thought_ that Frank might like guys—something about his style, the way the carried himself, the way his clothes always looked a little bit better than everyone else’s—but not so much that he’d want to take one openly to prom. And it was hard, too, to keep breathing through his shock because his stomach was starting to tighten with nerves. Why would Frank invite him over on prom night to tell him this? What if _he_ was the person Frank wanted to take? What if those two years spent pining after Frank like a puppy weren’t wasted?

“Y-you wanted to take a guy?” Gerard forced himself to say, trying to make himself sound interested instead of dumbfounded—but talking with his mouth full was hardly attractive and he wasn’t surprised when Frank’s demeanor suddenly changed and he snapped at him.

“Yeah. Is that a problem for you?” Frank, who had been all smiles from the moment Gerard walked in the door, was now glaring at him and Gerard couldn’t handle that. Maybe, instead of shocked, Gerard had sounded disgusted—which was the opposite of how he felt.

Gerard swallowed hard, almost choking on the bite of food in his mouth.

“N-No. I-I was just surprised.” He wanted to say more—ask if that was why Frank invited him over—but part of his still wasn’t committed to the idea. Maybe Frank just wanted companionship—maybe he just wanted someone to know his secret, that he liked a guy who wasn’t Gerard. 

But then why would Frank invite him over on _prom night?_

“Right,” Frank said, still sounding a bit irritable as he turned to look back at the television. 

Gerard stared at him, trying to think of something he could say to fix this. If he waited too long, Frank would just get angrier and more humiliated. He couldn’t let that happen. He liked Frank too much. He’d had a crush on him for _two years._

“I-I… I thought the girl you came to the boutique was your girlfriend at first,” Gerard said, trying to think of a lead-in to the conversation he wanted to have—the one where he told Frank he loved him and Frank said the same and then they kissed and held hands. 

“No—I’d never date her. She’s awesome, but she annoy the hell out of me.”

Frank didn’t seem to want to go back to the other conversation and it made Gerard anxious that he had lost his chance. He couldn’t lose his chance—he didn’t want to. Frank had invited him over, he bought pizza before Gerard could even chip in to pay like they’d discussed in art class. He wasn’t misreading the signs. Frank liked him. He _had_ to… Right?

“It kinda…kinda scared me when you came in with her,” Gerard said, chewing his lower lip.

“I could tell,” Frank said, not offering anything else.

“I…I guess I—” Gerard tried, but he couldn’t say anymore. He was embarrassed now. Frank wouldn’t even look at him. He _was_ reading things wrong. He wasn’t the guy Frank liked, Frank was just seeking likeminded support—another gay person to help him feel normal. 

Gerard wasn’t good enough for him…

Gerard shook his head and quit talking, forcing himself to smile down at his nearly empty plate so on the off chance Frank decided to look at him, he wouldn’t realize his guest was about to start crying from the sheer embarrassment. 

It wasn’t until the movie had ended that Frank said anything to Gerard aside from comments on the bad acting. And then it was to ask if Gerard wanted to just go home instead of watching the last of the movies they’d talked about.

“Um, F-Frank?” Gerard said as his host started cleaning up the coffee table of its plates, glasses, and napkins. 

“Yeah?” Frank said, sounding a bit dismissive.

“W-we never really…talked before this year. What…what changed that? I mean—why did you ask me over tonight?” God, Gerard _prayed_ he didn’t sound stupid. He really, really hoped he didn’t look like the friend-zoned idiot who’d gotten the wrong idea. 

“Oh…” Frank hesitated, passing Gerard a sideways glance before hurrying into the kitchen to get rid of the plates and cups. “Do you want more soda before I…put the cups in the sink?”

Gerard sighed in relief—safely out of view of Frank—and said yes. He must be doing something right if Frank was going back on his attempt to rush him out early.

When Frank came back, he had the cups of soda and two bags of chips which he dropped onto the coffee table absently before handing Gerard his cup. Before Gerard could say anything else to him, Frank put in the next movie and sat back down on the couch.

Not willing to push his luck, Gerard stayed quiet and didn’t demand an answer to his question. He just watched the opening scene of this strange slasher movie that already had boobs appear on screen within the first five minutes. Why did they feel the need to open with a shot of a woman in the shower? Why did her boobs have to be in it? 

Who even wanted to see that?

He noticed, however, after the first person got stabbed by the psycho in their abandoned log cabin, that Frank had—at some point—scooted closer to him on the couch. Gerard tried not to let on that he noticed, afraid that maybe Frank had just shifted and happened to get closer, but then he realized Frank was acting like one of the ghosts in the _Mario_ games—slowly creeping closer whenever Gerard wasn’t looking at him. 

Two more characters had died—the lovers including the naked woman from the beginning of the movie—and as soon as the man’s body hit the floor in a puddle of blood, Frank’s head dropped onto Gerard’s shoulder. Gerard stiffened involuntarily, surprised and startled, and then had to bite his lips to keep from grinning like the Joker. 

_Two years._ He’d been watching Frank from afar from two years, and now the boy was leaning against his shoulder watching horrible, bloody movies on prom night.

After a moment, Gerard was able to calm down enough to tilt his head against Frank’s, and shortly after that, Frank was entirely slumped against his side. 

By the half-way point of the movie, Gerard worked up the courage to wrap his arm around Frank’s shoulders and Frank, at the same moment, slid his arm behind Gerard’s back and started hugging him around the waist. 

It embarrassed him that Frank had his head resting against Gerard’s chest because he just _knew_ Frank could hear how fast his heart was pounding from the excitement and joy. 

There was no mistaking _this._ Frank wasn’t cuddling up to him because he was in the friendzone. Two years of stolen glances in the hallways. Two years trying to think up small talk or a way to turn “I like your Misfits t-shirt” into “you should come over and hear my vinyl records sometime.” Two years feeling jealous and hurt whenever Frank would talk to _anybody_ else. But now, now he had Frank cuddled into his side, smiling—looking up at him every now and then before reaching over to the coffee table for a chip or a drink of soda.

He even drank from Gerard’s cup a couple times!

When the movie was over, the room they were in had gotten dark with the setting sun, making the tv the only light in the room. It cast a blue glow on Frank’s cheeks, making his skin look softer and porcelain. 

As soon as Frank sat up and started stretching, unwinding himself from Gerard, Gerard didn’t let himself think twice. He leaned over and pressed a fast, anxious, nervous kiss to his cheek and then leaned away in fear he’d crossed a boundary.

Only Frank started grinning and turned toward him. They stared at each other a moment, Gerard biting his lip and Frank smiling happily, then Frank blinked a few times and started leaning in. Gerard’s heart started racing as he realized they were going to kiss—they were going to have their first kiss on _prom night!_ Even though they weren’t at prom it was still exhilarating—and it was something he could tell his grandmother when she asked about the night.

Frank’s lips were soft—that was the first thing Gerard noticed. So soft. And when he parted them, Gerard couldn’t help but do the same, sighing as he felt Frank’s tongue on his bottom lip.

To be truly honest, Gerard didn’t know how to kiss—no one wanted to kiss him unless they were drunk at a party he’d been coerced into going to—but Frank was making it feel natural. Whatever Frank did with his tongue, Gerard copied. 

His heart was beating so fast by the time Frank pulled away that he had to gasp for air—making Frank giggle at him.

“So…my mom’s gone for the weekend. Do you…want to stay the night? We could watch more movies,” Frank said, blushing—just faintly—in the dim room. 

“I-I’d have to call my mom,” Gerard said, a little embarrassed that as a senior in high school he still had to report to his mommy for permission to stay out late. 

“Okay,” Frank said, smiling still until he leaned over to grab the bag of potato chips, not bothering to put in another movie and ignoring it as the menu screen played over and over. “Do you like me?” Frank asked, leaning back against the opposite arm of the couch and looking at Gerard.

“Obviously,” Frank said, laughing a little at himself.

“Since when?”

“Like…two years ago when we were in drawing class and you…told Marcus Deitz to fuck off when he kept trying to mark up portrait,” Gerard said.

“Yeah,” Frank said, giggling. “I was just a freshman, you know?”

“I know,” Gerard said, knowing how creepy it had to be for a junior in high school to crush on a freshman.

“I’m just saying—if I could stand up to him, you could,” Frank said. “I’m two feet tall. You’re more intimidating than me.”

“Not really,” Frank said. “I only said anything because I wanted you to notice me.”

“Well I did.”

“But you never said anything,” Frank said, tossing a potato chip at Gerard who picked it up off his lap and ate it.

“What would I say? ‘Hey, Frank…um, hi. I like you. Come hang out in my basement. I’ll teach you floral arrangements.’”

Frank giggled and sat up, crawling toward Gerard with the bag of chips and sitting at his side again, but facing him. He picked a chip out of the bag and pushed it to Gerard’s mouth until, shyly, he ate from his hand. 

“So…are we, like, dating now?” Frank asked, giggling—made a little more bold by the dark.

“I-I…I guess,” Gerard said, blushing even though the shadows hid it. “If…if you want.”

Frank laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

Gerard guessed that was answer enough.


End file.
